Seven Days of Smut 7: Stella's Sunday
by Sinister Scribe
Summary: Um...adjoinder to 'Enigma' by the one and only Prinnie. if you haven't read that don't bother with this. Gartuitous sex and character borrowing. Last in the series


**Okay dokey kiddie winks, here we are at the end of the series and, in a shameless pimping of other stories, this is written as a kind of prequel/adjoinder to the amazing Prinnie's 'Enigma' which ye HAFTA read. **

**If you don't then none of this will make sense (well, you'll probably get the smut part but that'll be about it). **

**Um…yeah, chickadees, I **_**asked**_** to borrow Stella for this fic and I had to do some wheedling for it too. So dinnae be swiping the characters without asking because not only will Prinnie go vengeance on yer ass but I'll join in too. **

**So there. **

**Anwyas, last in the series (weep)…though I may be persuaded to do one offs for holidays and other such special occasions…though I promise nothing. #**

**Hope you enjoyed it and feel free to leave me your love when heading out. HIT THAT PURPLE BUUTTOOOOON!!!**

**Um…aye, the last part in italics is from 'Enigma' from chapter 42. **

**Enjoy. **

**Stella's Sunday**

Stella Margherita Cuddy moaned expansively as her phone trilled insistently from the bedside table in the room she was renting on a shoe-string budget for her European leg of the 'Find Stella Cuddy's Inner Calm World Tour'. Don't ask her how, but she had ended up in Paris in the bohemian quarter, staying in an old painted green boarding house a stone's throw from the Bastille and within spitting distance of the Eiffel Tower. Stella loved it. Even despite the continental attitude to alcohol consumption, she found little difficulty in resisting downing a bottle of chenin blanc…even after the performance of 'Mon Dieus' last night at the dinner table when she had politely but firmly declined.

She scrabbled for the slim line handset that her uncle had given her, glared at the inconsiderate machine, blipped the button and answered.

"If this isn't Ryan Reynolds in wet pyjama pants I'm hanging up." She slurred and then scrubbed a hand through her wild bed-head hair to try and tame it upon catching her reflection in the brass framed mirror on the wall opposite her wrought iron framed bed.

"Well, I'm not Ryan Reynolds but I do have my own charm."

"Greggus!" Stella shrieked and bolted upright in her bed. She could practically see the lanky frame of Gregory House wince on the other end of the line and hold the phone away from his ear. Excitement was then eclipsed by worry her 'uncle' Greg never called her. That was mom's job, why would he be calling her now unless there was something up with mom? As per usual, House read her mind.

"Nothing's wrong with Cuddy, I just thought I'd phone to give birthday well wishes first she's doing…Cuddy things."

"And you're doing as little as possible, right?" Stella tucked the sheet around her body a little tighter, reached over and swung the wooden framed window open. She inhaled deeply and savoured the scents of the greatest city on Earth wafting in through her window. She loved Paris. She could smell the magnolia blossom growing on the small balcony just below her window, hear the bustle of people heading to the market in the square down the road, and could almost taste the delicious smell of the pastry numminess wafting from the boulingerie down the street. The place was as fun to go into as it was to pronounce.

"Of course, otherwise your mom wouldn't be half as busy as I keep her." He was silent a beat. "That made sense, right?"

"Only in your world, Greggus."

"So, how does it feel to be an old fart?"

"You would know, you're, like, three times my age."

"I am not!" He grumbled for a moment. "More like twice." He amended and Stella gave the evillest of evil chuckles. "So, where are you today?"

"Still in Paris, you should see the place I'm staying, it's very retro. There's a bakery just down the street that sells _the_ best chocolate croissants."

"And this cute little café on the square with green copper chairs outside that do really good espresso?" House asked blandly and Stella heard him slurp.

A knock at the door sounded while Stella frowned at her cell phone. "Greggus, how would you know about that café unless…" Stella trailed off as she swung her room door open and came face to face with someone she hadn't seen in far too long.

Lisa Cuddy reached up and pulled her huge Gucci designer sunglasses off her face and smiled at her daughter through a film of tears over her blue green eyes.

"Happy birthday, honey." Cuddy smiled and spread her arms wide for a hug.

"_MOM!!"_ Stella shrieked and flew into her arms. Her cell phone clattered to the floor and she barely heard House speak.

"_Guess she found you then…" _

**$inister $cribe**

"You ladies take forever to get ready." House grumped and found himself cut off from a really good rant when a certain teenager launched herself at him and grabbed him a rub-crushing hug that he never would have dared return had he been on the other side of the Atlantic.

But here there was only Cuddy and the frogs to witness so he looped an arm around Stella's shoulders and squeezed in brief welcome. Stella pulled away and blinked rapidly, she had just finished her make up and she was _not_ blubbering all over it. Greggus would never let her live it down.

"But…how are you guys even here?" She looked up at House and narrowed her eyes. "You in particular, Mom, I can see doing this, but it really isn't your scene. You might be mistaken for actually giving a damn." Stella teased and nudged him in the ribs with her elbow.

House sniffed in mock disdain. "Mommy dearest was in a flap because she wanted to get out here and see you and she could only do it with the aid of my superior intellect, so here we are."

Stella swung around to look at her mother. "Translation?"

Cuddy was smiling. House was being an ass, but this was the first time she had seen her daughter in months and she couldn't care less what House said at the moment. "House is speaking at a conference so I used the excuse of chaperoning him to come out and see you."

"You? At a conference? Speaking?" Stella gaped in mock disbelief and House glowered at her.

"You ingrate, I'm suffering so you can see your mother on your birthday and this is all the thanks I get? I'll remember that!" House made to limp away in a huff but Cuddy and Stella grabbed an arm each and fairly effectively halted his progress.

"Gregguuuss!" Stella mewled and he relented with a small grin.

"Fine, but I think Cuddy should spoil us both rotten. You for your birthday and me because…well, I deserve it."

"I'm not going to tell you what you deserve." Cuddy answered with a small smile and looped her arm through Stella's. Stella looked between them both. There was something different about them…

"So, what do you want to do first?" Cuddy looked over the top of her sunglasses and smiled. It seemed like there really was nothing that could annoy her today.

"Eat, I'm starved." Stella answered promptly and House threw back his head and laughed. Stella gave a smiling frown of perplexity at that. Something was definitely different.

"Medusa, when have you ever not been starving?"

Stella grinned. "Straight after I've just eaten." She pointed down a side street that wound away from the square. "Ooh, let's go down here. There's a great delicatessen along here!"

**$inister $cribe**

"Mom, we're very high."

Cuddy turned and grinned at Stella. "I know, but look at the view."

Stella tightened her grip on the railing behind her and shook her head rapidly.

"It's very pretty."

"Pretty is no reason to plunge to my doom." Stella gritted and ignored the dark chuckle to her right. House was lounging against the railing, swinging his cane and watching the Cuddy women with a great deal of pleasure. Stella, because he hadn't seen her in far too long and she was closer to him than he'd ever admit in mixed company, and Cuddy…well he just liked to Cuddy-watch whenever possible. She seemed…lighter, now that she was with her daughter again. She'd been gradually growing more and more melancholic at her separation from Stella. Not to mention the rise in the neckline which had been a source of great disappointment for House. So, when she had suggested to him that he make things a little easier for her to see Stella on her birthday…he might not have resisted the idea as much as his reputation might have demanded. Besides, he had every intention of making her pay him back. The woman in question lifted her hands from the railing and waved them at Stella.

"Look! No hands!"

"Mom! Who's bright idea was this anyway?" Stella demanded.

"Yours." House supplied cheerfully. "You wanted us to hit all the great tourist spots so here we are at the Tower d'Eiffel." House waved his arm expansively and Stella gritted her teeth at him. She still didn't see why they'd had to come all the way to the very high top of the damn thing.

"Okay, we came, we saw, can we go now?"

Cuddy turned to look at him then and he wished with everything he had that he'd had a camera for that split second when her eyes met his. She was grinning, the first real smile he'd seen in a long time, her eyes dancing with amusement, her hair tousled by the wind and barely held in check by her sunglasses perched high on her head. She must have caught something in his eyes, some answering kind of heat to the light in her gaze, because the grin slipped from her lips to be replaced by a smaller smile. One that seemed to be brighter than the sun to him.

"What do you think, House, shall we put her out of her misery?"

"Hmm." He leant up and off the railing and limped over to stand beside her. He ignored the other tourists standing around him, ignored the panoramic view of the city, even ignored Stella, his attention was so absorbed with the woman in front of him.

"You guys aren't going to start snarking are you? Coz it be my birthday and I don't wanna hear it." Stella had opened her eyes to find her mom and Greggus locked in one of their many 'conversations that are held within a look', which was usually a precursor to one hell of a blow out between them. Greggus dragged his gaze away from Cuddy with an effort and looked over to Stella still clinging to the railing and refusing to look down, or up, or anywhere really.

"No snarking here. Come on, we'll go down now."

"Thank you god." Stella muttered and moved her steely grip from the railing to House's arm, following him into the elevator that would take them back down to ground level. It wasn't until they were back on the ground and heading for another bakery that Stella began to wonder if the look she had interrupted had been of an arguing kind.

**$inister $cribe**

"Mom?"

Cuddy fluffed her hair in the mirror of the huge bathroom available to them in the hotel restaurant where she and House were staying. She reached up and checked her lip gloss one last time before meeting her daughter's eyes in their reflection. "What is it, honey?"

Cuddy couldn't over how well her baby girl looked. The last time she had seen her she had been barely a month out of rehab. She had been painfully thin, slightly withdrawn and, as painful as Cuddy had felt it, in need of doing this on her own. Cuddy didn't pretend to understand exactly what 'this' was, but she did know why it had to be done…and how much good it was doing Stella to be doing it. She looked happy, for the first time in a long time, she looked genuinely comfortable to be in her own skin.

They were both dressed to kill tonight. Cuddy in her low cut gold chiffon top, made up of sparkling overlapping layers of material that clung in all the right places and hinted at what was lying beneath the material in all the important ones. Her hair was loose and wild tumbling down her back and shoulders and her skirt was a stunning black pencil affair with gold buttons inching all the way up her leg to her hip in a sparkling trail of gold that was just begging to be undone. And of course there was the sparkly gold 'Do me' heels.

Stella looked just as, if not more, gorgeous. Her dark hair cut in a forties glam style curling about her face with streaks of sunshine through it. Her tan was perfect and offset by the turquoise metallic around her eyes, her glossed lips and the deep blue green of her shirt. Black skinny jeans and turquoise heels that could have been cloned from Cuddy's own collection finished the outfit with flare. Cuddy blinked in surprise when Stella slapped her black beaded clutch purse on the marble counter top and glared at her mother.

"Are you and Greggus having a torrid affair?"

Cuddy's eyes flew wide and she blinked at Stella. Of all the things she had expected her daughter to ask her, this had to be fairly low ranking on the list. Which it really shouldn't have been considering Stella had been asking variations on the theme for nearly as long as she had been able to talk.

"Say again?"

"Are you and House…" she waved a hand expansively, "_together?"_

Cuddy blinked a few more times and then frowned. "No, why would you even think that?"

"Oh, well, um…" Stella trailed off, she hadn't realised how disappointed she would be to hear the word 'no' leaving her mother's lips. She shifted nervously and stared around the bathroom as if searching for inspiration. Greggus was probably beginning to wonder if they had fallen in or not. "You just seemed…" God, now she felt like a total idiot. Her mom probably thought she needed to check back into rehab. "Closer." Stella finished in an attempt to regain some modicum of dignity.

Cuddy shrugged. "I suppose we are…a little, but we're not _together_."

"Do you want to be?" Stella could have slapped herself for letting that one slip and actually gave serious thought to following through on the thought. Her eyes widened when her mother's danced away from her gaze. "You _do_!"

"I do not, I'm embarrassed for you." Cuddy answered quickly, though not unkindly, and Stella almost believed her. "What's brought this on? I thought you liked me being single, that way I could spoil just you." Cuddy put an arm around Stella's shoulders and steered her out of the bathroom.

"Yeah…I just realised, with me being away…you're kind of all alone." Stella was uncomfortable with the way this conversation was headed. She didn't know if she was ready to know if her mom forgave her for being so far gone and getting sent to rehab in the first place. Didn't know if she'd gotten over the chronic embarrassment that she must feel every time she thought about it. About Stella herself. She tried hard to hide it, but she'd inherited a healthy portion of the patented Lisa Cuddy guilt and it would eat at her like an acid if she let it.

"Honey," Cuddy stopped Stella in the hallway leading back to the main floor of the restaurant. "You're fine, that's all I wanted and if you had to go half a world away to get that way then it's a price I'm willing to pay. I just want you happy, okay?"

Stella smiled a small smile. She'd forgotten how well her mom knew her. "Well, a mazeratti would go a long way to…"

"Oh, you just can't let a moment be, can you?" Cuddy turned away in mock disgust but there was the light of laughter in her smile.

"Ah, ladies, I was about to send a search party." House grinned up at them on their return and fiddled with his water glass. Neither of them had ordered wine, even though Stella had insisted she was fine with it. Secretly, she was grateful, she had no desire to drink again but it was nice to know that there were people out there that cared enough to abstain with her.

"Just in time too." House added.

Stella's smile faltered as a shadow fell over her. She looked up to find a troop of garcons hovering over her with the biggest birthday gateaux in France held between them. She was caught between mortification and joy when they all launched into a rousing course of _Bon Anniversaire_ for her. House stood and conducted with his cane until the whole restaurant joined in and Stella blew out her candles to the cheers of strangers, the laughing presence of Greggus and her mom's hand holding onto her own….yeah, this was the best birthday ever.

**$inister $cribe**

"Ah, the vino." House smirked as Cuddy poured him a luscious glass of deep red merlot that he had been eyeing on the restaurant wine list earlier that evening. They had bought a bottle and brought it up to their suite to share it, after having sent Stella home in a taxi. She had insisted on going back to her room alone since there was no point in them escorting her all the way back just to have to turn around and traipse back here again. Plus, she didn't trust letting House out in the Parisian version of SoHo.

"So, is mommy happy now that she knows her baby's okay?" He teased her lightly but he was genuinely interested in the answer.

"Yes…she looks good, doesn't she?" Cuddy fiddled with the stem of her wineglass. Her eyes trailed to the door that led to her bedroom. They were in the lounge that adjoined their two en suites. She should probably be getting to bed, not sitting up with House and polishing off a bottle of wine between them. He did look delectable though, he had kicked off his shoes to reveal bare feet that she shouldn't have been finding so damn sexy. He wore dark jeans over his long legs and a black shirt than he had unbuttoned down over his chest in deference to the heated evening air wafting in through the open balcony doors. He looked good enough to eat.

"Comes from good stock." House muttered over his wineglass and their eyes met. She looked at him for a long time and said nothing. She couldn't say anything. Not without…

"Careful, House, that sounded like a compliment." It was better to remain in safer territory. No point in digging up things that had long ago been allowed to rest.

"I think I can handle giving them out if you can handle taking them." He smirked at her and swirled the wine in his mouth. It really did taste good. There was nothing better than French wine in France.

"Big of you."

He smirked at her. "So the ladies tell me." He bobbed his eyebrows and she smiled. This felt nice, to just sit here and talk with him. The hospital and all its troubles were, quite literally, thousands of miles away. She didn't have to worry until she got back. She had missed this with him. Their friendship had changed over the years, rocked by things that lesser people would have been broken by. She wouldn't say it had been easy, but she wouldn't give up what she had with House for anything…which was probably why she found it so difficult to keep a serious relationship with another man.

Good lord, listen to her, another man! Like she even had House to begin with.

"Cuddy?"

"Hmm?" Cuddy came back to the real world with a clatter and blinked rapidly at House who was staring at her quite avidly.

"Where did you go?"

"Oh…not far." She hedged and took a deep drink from her wine glass. "You know Stella thought we were together?"

Oh God…she did not just say that.

It was House's turn to blink rapidly at her. Yes, yes she had just said that. He smirked then and she tried to swallow her disappointment at giving him an opportunity to ruin the moment. Not that they'd been having a moment, she hurried to assure herself. Damn Stella for putting these ideas in her head.

"Wonder what gave her that idea?" He asked innocently instead and she turned to gape at him.

"Well, it wasn't me!" Okay, tone it down a little, Lisa. Sounding a bit too vehement in the protests there. "Was it you?"

He smirked then. "No." He drank his wine and her eyes narrowed. He was taking this a little too well.

"What did you say to her?"

"I didn't say anything." He denied quickly and sounded honest.

"Then why did I get cornered in the bathroom with demands of how long we'd been having a torrid affair?" She demanded hotly and nearly sloshed her wine all over the cream sofa.

"Maybe because your daughter is an intelligent young woman who can see what her mother refuses to?" He asked sweetly and leant forward to set his wineglass on the coffee table. He was so close the cool scent of his aftershave washed over her tantalisingly.

She scowled at him. "And what exactly would that be?"

He sat back and spread his arms over the back of the couch. "That you burn for my hot bod."

Cuddy snorted before she could stop herself and then threw back her head and laughed. He had to be joking. His hand landed on her knee and she stopped laughing abruptly. Maybe he wasn't joking. "House…what are you doing?"

"It's not so laughable, us, together." He slid his hand up over her thigh so that he could clasp her hip lightly in his heated grip. Her breath caught and his voice rumbled in her ear. "You didn't mind in college."

"This is a long way away from college." She could barely whisper. His touch was robbing her of her voice, of her willpower, of her resistance, of everything.

"Some things don't change…I could prove it to you." He dipped his head against her throat, burying his nose in the crook of her neck to inhale the expensive perfume that she'd bought today. The one he had said smelled nice. His hand slid over her belly and worked under the hem of her top, his thumb swiped over the heated skin of her belly and she gasped, the muscles tightening under his ministrations deliciously.

"We shouldn't…this isn't why you're here."

"No…but that's not going to stop me."

"I could say no."

He lifted his head at her words. Yes, saying that was about the only thing that _would _stop him. He lifted the wineglass from her numb fingers and set it down next to his. he loomed over her, pushing her further back into the plush leather of the couch. "You could…" He agreed languidly, pushing the material of her top up a little higher. "But you're not going to."

She looked up at him and bit her lush lip between white teeth. He was practically lying on top of her, but she could still say no if she wanted to. Only problem was…she didn't really want to. He saw the answer in her eyes. Knew it before she did and he didn't fail to take full advantage. His mouth came down on hers, softly at first, and then with increasing pressure. His tongue sliding against hers in a bold possession that she had missed more than she had realised. His hand slid around her neck, pulling her mouth up against his, forcing her to open to him, to deepen the kiss.

She moaned, a deep and primal sound that shivered right through him. His free hand slid further up under the stretched material of her top. Buttons popped against his chest when her fingers fisted in his shirt and yanked, parting it over his tanned skin. He wanted to part her legs, to get closer to her and grind up against her heat, but the damn skirt from hell was in the way and it clung to her so tightly that he couldn't even shove it up and out of the way. He tugged at it with a growl of annoyance.

"Off." He demanded, swirling his tongue around her ear.

"Buttons…at the side." She panted, her hips twisting beneath him. His fingers danced over the buttons and he frowned. Looking down he saw the world's tiniest button collection congregated on her skirt. He'd have to be patient then…damnit. He slid the first few buttons loose and settled for yanking her top up and off to keep him occupied meanwhile. He was, after all, one of the few men that could multitask. The golden material of her shirt furled elegantly to the floor and looked almost as good adorning the cream carpet as it had clinging to her like a second skin. Her ivory bra was sent sailing after it in short order, he wanted her skin against his, her naked with him and writhing in ecstasy would be better but these fucking buttons!

"Greg…" Her nails dug into his shoulders.

"Hmm?" He hummed around the nipple that he was nibbling. She moaned again and buried her fingers in his hair, apparently forgetting what she had been about to say.

"Rip it…"

His head came up in surprise and he blinked at her. "What?"

"Rip the damn skirt off, I can't wait."

He grinned. That was his girl. He thought about crowing with a smart comment or three but quickly decided against it when she attacked his shirt and shoved it forcibly from his shoulders to flop over the back of the couch. He bunched both hands in the material of her skirt and hauled sharply up. The sound of ripping silk was music to his ears and he savaged the skirt with a special kind of glee. He frowned when the last scrap of fabric fell to the floor and he realised a deep red score over her hip. He'd burned her with the fabric. He soothed his tongue over the sting and she sighed.

"Does it hurt?" He had always made it a point to be carefully of his lovers. He was too damn big and lanky to be any other way.

"Does what hurt?" She was confused now, she didn't want to be doing pesky things like thinking when House was about to nail her. She tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled his mouth back down over hers. Their kiss was hot and drugging. Her eyes fluttered closed and she squirmed under him. She wanted more. Now. Her nails scraped his belly when she reached for his belt, yanking it hurriedly from the loops with a clank of metal and a hiss of leather. The snap of his jeans closely followed and her hand slid inside to curl her fingers around the pulsing length of his cock. They both moaned, he felt so good in her hand. So hot. She could feel the quivering power of his entire body focused on that one point between them.

"Some things really don't change, hmm?" She grinned against his mouth and stroked him up and down in a way that he obviously still enjoyed. It had been nearly twenty years since the last time he had talked her into bed but they still knew each other blindfold. A rush of breath hissed between his teeth and his spine flexed, bringing his head down on her shoulder on a shuddering groan of need. His hand went to the scrap of lace jokingly referred to as her underwear and he twisted sharply, ripping that from her too. She gasped and he swallowed the sound with his mouth and a dark chuckle.

"I'm a lot less patient than I used to be." He grinned against her lips and gripped her knee in the span of one hand. With one last searing kiss to her lips, he began his molten trail down her body. Dropping scorching kisses as lightly as feathers over her skin, she twisted and writhed up against him. He lavished her breasts with attention, teasing her nipples until she whimpered, then lower, tasting across her belly and lower until he could lap at the burning core of her need.

He began slowly with a long lap from the well of her entrance right the way up to lash his tongue around her sensitive clit. Her back bowed and she cried out, her fingers delving through his hair once more. He slid his tongue against her fold, teasing her, teasing himself. He could never get enough of her taste. She was like honey and strawberries and all woman rolled into this tantalising addictive cream that he wanted to savour forever. He looked up over the length of her body, lithe and heaving with every breath, watching every strain of pleasure across his face as he pushed two long fingers deep inside her.

"Oh god…" She gripped the leather of the couch and twisted it in her fingers with a desperate moan. He thrust slowly back and forth with his hand, twisting to wring further gasps from her. He slid his tongue lightly around her clit, just a teasing brush of contact…

"Oh _god_!" She shattered for him and he smirked, damn he was good. He yanked her down over the leather of the couch, she slid beneath him easily and wrapped her arms and legs around him in welcome. His mouth claimed hers again and he knew she could taste herself on his lips. She tasted of wine and lust, a heady combination. She shoved insistently at his jeans, sliding them down over his hips. He wriggled out of them, kicking them off and slid against her, finally naked, with a sigh of contentment. They could play all the games they liked. Deny it as hotly as they wanted, but this was how it was supposed to be with them. This was when they were at their best together.

"Greg! Please!" She moaned under him, her nails scoring his back, her teeth scraping his shoulder and neck in the way he loved. The pain twisting with the pleasure. He growled and slid his cock against her. The dripping head sliding over her folds, she was still sensitive and shivering from her first climax. He knew he could wring others from her just as easily.

"Shh…" He calmed her, sipping from her lips with gentling kisses. "We've all night."

"Finesse me later, fuck me now." He loved her impatience. That edge of selfishness to her loving. She was all for mutual pleasure…just so long as she got hers first. He chuckled against her skin and took her mouth hard. He twisted his hips and thrust inside her in a long deep stroke that had her entire body thrumming like a current had passed through her. He squeezed his eyes shut and swore at the sensation of her wrapped hot and wet around him. No matter how often this happened, no matter how he fantasised, it was never enough, it was never as good as the real thing.

"You feel…" Words failed him. The great Gregory House that never failed to have some smart comment was without description for the heaven he found in her arms.

Her hands stroked him, cupping his face, tracing the line of his back and delving into the silky shortness of his hair. "I know, just…just don't stop."

"Couldn't if I wanted to." He confided and rocked against her. She mewled in desperate pleasure and tightened her legs over his hips so hard that they'd both have bruises tomorrow. His hands slid over her body before finally threading his fingers through hers and clasping palm to palm with her. He couldn't last long. It had been too long, for both of them. He knew this was a moment out of time. Come next week, when they were both back in Princeton and she was the dean again and he was her pain in the ass, this would be nothing more than a flirtatious look and another barb in another argument and, for the moment, that was alright…but House wasn't satisfied with that.

He wanted more.

He wanted her.

He'd settle for nothing less and she was deluding herself if she thought that she could stay away from him forever. This was just further proof that they couldn't resist each other. So he would bide his time and he would wait…but he _would_ have her.

His rhythm increased. He slid in and out of her, harder, faster, _deeper_. He took everyone of her demands and made it so. In this one area he could be the best. He could be good enough for her. He would be unforgettable and unrelinquishable. No one would _ever_ measure up to what he could give her. He made damn sure of it.

Her hands tightened against his, his tongue delved deeper into her mouth, her legs cinched around his hips and his back arched as pleasure hammered up his spine and exploded in his brain. He shouted against her, inside her and around her and she echoed his cries with her own softer exclamations.

He collapsed down on top of her. Not worrying about squashing her, he knew she actually liked the feel of him against her like this. Especially after a wild tumble like the one they'd just had. He panted against her throat, his entire body trembling with the exertion. He lifted his head and grinned down at her, swiping a curl out of her face and waited until her desire laden eyes fluttered open to look back at him. Her answering smile was of the sated and contented sort.

"Worth the wait?" He grinned down at her.

She slid her arms around his neck and leant up, kissing him softly on the lips.

"Every second."

**$inister $cribe**

"_House and your Mom have become closer. To be honest, we've all become closer."_

_Stella was quiet for a moment. "Did something happen while they were in France?"_

"_France?"_

"_Yes, France. Don't you remember? Mom surprised me for my birthday. House was there too. Some diagnostics convention. Or something along those lines. I'm still not quite sure __**how**__ Greggus was roped into that. I can't even remember the last time he went to a conference, let alone speak at one overseas."_

_Wilson grinned in memory of that almost fiasco. "House was 'invited' slash 'forced' to attend as guest speaker, by not only your Mom but the board. But knowing him, he needed a chaperone. You know, I'm starting to think that it was all fixed. I didn't think so much at the time, but don't you think that it's a bit of a coincidence that House had a guest speaking spot in the same country as the one your Mom was trying to organize time off work to go and see you in?"_

_She nodded slowly, before a light bulb went off in both their heads._

"_You don't think that –"_

_They looked at each other, both wearing a look of confusion, disbelief and in some sense, horror._

"_Nah. No way." They shook their heads at the same time._

"_They wouldn't." Stella stated._

_Wilson looked as if he were about to disagree, or input another idea about it all. After all, he knew their history better than most people. And he definitely knew more to the story than Stella did when it came to House and Cuddy._

"_**Right?!"**_


End file.
